


silverfish

by deniigiq



Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [11]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Complicated Relationships, M/M, Office, Peter on the other hands is a tease with zero qualms for fucking things up for himself, Pining, Sam will not fuck things up for himself, Secret Crush, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25731535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: “What, so you’re gonna roll up to the city in a skater skirt and white converse because you’redifferent?” Sam scoffed. “Man, everyone in New York City is different. The only way to stand out is to stand up and shout.”Achara and Leilani stared at him.“I lied, you’re coming,” Achara said.(Sam gets roped into a shopping trip so that Achara can fulfill her dreams of wooing Spiderman.)
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Samuel Chung, Nelson & Murdock & every vigilante in NYC, Samuel Chung & Peter Parker, Samuel Chung/Peter Parker
Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658656
Comments: 39
Kudos: 420





	silverfish

Achara came to work with a smoothie in hand and new highlights that she kept flipping around her shoulders. Leilani let her do it three times before she decided that she’d bite.

“Love the new look,” she said.

Achara batted her eyes bashfully and played like she didn’t know what Leilani was talking about, then took a pointed sip of smoothie, which made Sam want to roll his eyes and go find a cupboard to lock himself into.

Girl, please. Just say ‘assholes, new Monday, new me. Get a load of _this_ ’ like everyone else.

“I started a new fitness regime,” Achara said.

Sam resisted the urge to gag out loud.

“Oh?” Leilani asked. “Do you like it?”

“So far,” Achara said. “I only got like, two weeks, though.”

Don’t take the bait, Leilani. Don’t do it. You don’t have to be polite with this child triggering you with all this impending weight-talk.

“What do you mean?” Leilani asked with a smile.

Goddamnit.

“I’m going to New York,” Achara said. “My uncle bought me tickets for my birthday.”

Leilani’s smile did not drop. She started to say something when Matt came crashing out of the Lawyer Containment Zone like an excited puppy.

“Did I hear New York?” he asked.

Sam hid his face in his hand.

“What part are you going to?” Matt asked, draping himself over the nearest computer.

Achara was offended at his old ass coming in to be a know-it-all in her sandbox.

“Queens,” she said dryly. “I don’t think you’re—”

“I hate Queens,” Matt spat. He ruthlessly abandoned the computer and stalked back towards the hallway. “Not a damn good thing in Queens,” he barked over his shoulder before vanishing back into his office to brood.

Leilani beamed after him. Sam sighed. Achara sneered, then turned back to the other two.

“This is my chance,” she said. “I’m gymming. I’m detoxing. I’m going to Queens and I will come back engaged, let me tell you—”

“Actually, I lied, there’s one good thing in Queens,” Matt interrupted. He jauntily came back out of the hallway and felt around until he got ahold of Sam’s shoulder to jostle. “What’s the name of that place? The one on Roosevelt. Loud. Everything smells like chili.”

“New World Mall,” Sam said robotically.

“That’s the one,” Matt said. “Not the worst. Not as good as Real Kung Fu, but perfectly serviceable.”

Sam wilted. This guy and Real Kung Fu. It was good, don’t get him wrong, but like, compared to the New World Mall? _Variety_ , teach. Think about _variety_.

“There isn’t anything else in Queens,” Matt declared, then fucked off for a second time.

Achara’s lip twitched.

“So you’re getting engaged?” Leilani asked indulgently.

“I am,” Achara declared. “My husband awaits me in red and blue spandex and—”

“I take it back, I take it back,” Matt belabored. “Titan Foods is not bad either.”

“Pretty sure that’s Greek,” Sam pointed out.

Matt cocked his head in confusion as to how this could possibly be a problem.

“Achara’s got a taste for arachnid,” Sam informed him.

The three of them watched as this information tried to worm past the dial-up tone that was Matt’s brain coming back on board.

“Disgusting,” he snapped. “You can do better, child.”

Achara puffed up like a parking-lot bird.

“We’re meant to be together,” she said. “Vigilantes have _rights_ , Mr. Murdock.”

“Rights, my ass,” Matt said. “Not a _lick_ of manners among them. Not a _lick_. The work we did—Foggy-- Foggy, tell this girl how much heartburn Hawkeye gives me.”

There was a rattle in the direction of Foggy’s open office door; the tell-tale sound of a bottle of Tums being cracked open. Matt took this as vindication, but unfortunately for him, missed the moment when Achara realized that he had super-people connections. Her eyes glittered with newfound stars.

“Is Hawkeye single?” she asked.

Leilani cradled her face. Sam melted onto the filing cabinet he was picking through. Matt’s eyebrows knitted together.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Teach, no. Don’t—you don’t want to know.

“I mean, is Hawkeye romantically involved with a woman?” Achara sounded out for him.

Leilani burrowed into her hands. Matt’s new dial up tone was nearly audible.

“I dunno, he was always Foggy’s client first,” he said, “I wasn’t allowed to—oh. I see. You wish to spend time in Hawkeye’s presence.”

“If Spidey isn’t available,” Achara said sweetly. “A girl’s gotta have a back-up plan, and the folks online say that Hawkeye owns property.”

Matt stared over her head for a long time.

“I am disturbed and upset,” he announced. “I’m going back to my cave. Carry on, youths.”

Good plan, teach. Good plan.

“Doesn’t Matt like, know Hawkeye?” Leilani asked later during lunch, when their coworker was off blending up a new smoothie in Kirsten’s upstairs kitchen.

“Barton and Matt are like two peas in a pod,” Sam whispered to her. “They met in a dumpster and had a feud for years but came around after a while and now we watch Barton’s dog when he’s on this coast.”

“Did they _you know what_?”

“Google ‘Daredevil-slash-everyone in Hell’s Kitchen,’” Sam said, standing over her shoulder as she did so.

“Oh my god, Matt, you skank,” Leilani giggled.

“You called?”

They both yelped. Matt smirked at them with coffee in hand for Foggy and Kirsten.

“You skank,” Leilani teased, swatting at him from across the desk.

“Why, my dear, I have no idea what you speak of,” he oozed. “I am but a simple, Catholic boy with—”

“Mr. Murdock, you represented Captain America, I just looked it up,” Achara announced from the top of the stairs.

Matt went stiff. Leilani’s eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline.

“You didn’t?” she whispered.

“Nope, not that one,” Matt murmured back. “Do I look stupid to you? Winter is _not friendly_.”

Leilani nodded seriously with her eyes closed.

“How far is Brooklyn from Queens?” Achara asked. “Maybe I’ll take the Captain America tour.”

Oh god. Sam had forgotten about that. The whole thing ran from Cap’s childhood home in a super dark little hole in the wall apartment staged like a film set to the church he’d once attended to the apartment he’d shared with Bucky Barnes. It ended at Coney Island, with plenty of stops along the way and encouragement to try all the establishments still around from the 30s. Rumor had it that Cap hated the tour himself and his refusal to review it, no matter how desperately the various historical societies and tour companies that put it on asked him to, seemed to be proof of that.

Matt’s lip twitched at the mere thought of it, and Sam caught himself making a similar face.

“I’m sure it’s a great tour,” Matt said with zero intonation. “Captain America is a lovely man who loves to be arrested.”

Bless.

“Are you on a first name basis with him?” Achara asked as she came back downstairs.

“Possibly,” Matt said.

“Does he like ‘Steve’ or ‘Steven’ better?” Achara asked.

Matt edged away with his coffee cups.

“He is very, _very_ in love with the Soldier and the Falcon,” he said. “Not to mention he is more than four times your age.”

Achara sipped her smoothie.

“Yeah, but what if Spidey _and_ Hawkeye don’t work out?” she asked. “Who’s left? Daredevil?”

Leilani and Sam hid their faces even though Matt couldn’t see their secondhand embarrassment. One of his eyebrows started kind of jiggling of its own accord.

“I care not,” he sneered. “They’re all trouble and they’re all too old for you, Achara. You’re so young, sweetheart. Aim for someone normal. You have no idea what these people are like. Normal is good. Normal is safe.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been taking first aid classes,” Achara said. “You know, ‘cause I read on the online guide for newbies that vigilantes never go to hospitals. It’s the rule.”

Dude. That was not the rule. That was just all of them being unfortunately poor and unfortunately stupid.

“Until they do,” Matt said sweetly. “And when they do, they have to call dear, old Murdock & Nelson to get a load of nurses to sign NDAs, and it takes _ages_ to file the paperwork, and then it takes even longer to manage the sheer number of restraining orders the nurses want to file in return.”

Lol. Pour one out for the young versions of Matt and Foggy covering for all the past idiots slamming into metal poles in the city. Be sure that Foggy’s is a double, the poor guy.

“Kay, so is that a ‘Steve’ or a ‘Steven’?” Achara asked.

Matt scowled.

“It’s a Stephen, actually,” he said. “Or, if you go with the original Gaelic, a ‘Stiofán.’ Either way, he only lets Barnes call him that.”

Achara frowned.

“What’s Gaelic?” she asked.

“That alone removes you from the Cap-running,” Matt said. “Truly, if you have any sense, you’ll remove yourself from the vigilante runnings in general. They’re dangerous people, Achara. I mean it.”

Achara hummed and waited until he’d tapped down to the hallway and disappeared into Kirsten’s office before huffing.

“He’s so conservative,” she said. “Only lawyers and cops don’t like vigilantes.”

Leilani chewed a lip.

“I don’t think it’s that,” she said, “If he didn’t like them, he wouldn’t have represented them in court. I’m sure it’s something else.”

The coworker stuck her nose in the air.

“Well, he can be a hater, but I’m still gonna bag Spidey,” she said. “Just you wait.”

Leilani wanted to learn how to play cards and she was in luck because Sam had been a janitor with a load of other janitors for many, many years. Boredom was part of the gig. He’d been taught early on how to play cards.

Leilani was not a fast learner with them.

“I just don’t get it,” she said, picking through her hand and flashing them at Sam to ask which flush was which. “Matt’s a vigilante. You’re a vigilante. You guys are just normal people most of the time. What does she think that Spidey is gonna be like?”

Sam took her hands and purposefully pointed them solidly at her chest.

“She wants him to be Spiderman all the time,” he said. “She thinks that he’s Spiderman like, 24/7.”

“What’s his name again?”

Nice try, friend.

She smiled.

“He’s kind of a spazz, no?” she said.

Sam huffed.

“Kind of?” he said. “That’s generous.”

“Kinda dorky, too.”

Uh-huh.

“I’d do him.”

Everyone would. Cards to the chest, girl. To the _chest_.

“Everyone? Does that include you, Sammy?”

His brain short circuited and suddenly his hands were, wow, sweaty. Look at that. Hey, now, no need for hearts to be beating like this. Everything was fine. Everything was chill.

“Why not?” Sam hummed. “He’s nice enough.”

Leilani stared at him over the tops of her cards. Her eyes were nearly black. Sam refused to look away first.

“You _like_ him,” Leilani said.

Psh. What?

No.

“You like him, oh my god, Sammy, you have a _crush_.”

Fuck off. He didn’t.

“That’s so _cute_. Is that why you hate her talking about him?”

No. No, that wasn’t it.

“He’s a person, Leilani. A person. My friend. Matt’s friend. Our teammate,” Sam explained. “I hate her talking about him like she knows him. Like he’s just this, I dunno—just—Spiderman. That’s all.”

Leilani’s penciled-in brows said that she could feel his heartbeat through telepathy or secret super-hearing or something.

It was unfair.

“So, if she talked about him as, like, the other dude—Mr. Daytime Spidey—that’d be okay?” she asked.

Well, yeah. That would be fine. People talked about Peter all the time. He had loads of friends and coworkers and they were always teasing him about how pretty he was and how nerdy and how…

And how…kind he was.

“Sam?”

When Sam had met him for the first time, he’d been struck by those eyes—they were a kind of brown that Sam didn’t know how to describe. Dark with little flecks of orange and yellow when you got close up, and in the setting sun they looked like tiger’s eye—even with Sam’s own darkened vision. Their eyebrows were heavy, slanting down on each side in permanent concern. But Peter’s smile was like a beacon.

His bottom teeth were a little crowded and pushed a bit off-center and he had crow’s feet even as young as he was. His upper lip was less full than his lower one with a dramatic cupid’s bow, but it was softened all around by a layer of stubble that grew in thicker around Peter’s sideburns, down around his jaw to his chin.

He was pretty.

Dangerously pretty.

The kind of pretty moms everywhere admired, then cut their eyes and warned their kids against behind closed doors.

Foggy and Kirsten had told Sam before that only pretty people seemed to become vigilantes. Look at Barton. Look at Castle.

Look at Matt.

They had everything in the world going for them in real life, and it wasn’t enough.

“Sam, yoo-hoo? Anyone home?”

He shook his head.

“Sorry, that’s still not a flush,” he said absently.

Leilani dropped her cards and leaned her chin on a palm.

“Sam,” she said. “He’s your type.”

No, he wasn’t. Sam’s type was all over the place. It was, strictly speaking, ‘whoever would have him.’ The bar was not high. He never intended to stay with any of them, so it didn’t have to be.

Sex was easy.

Relationships were complicated. Attachment was complicated. He’d just gotten a dad-figure. There had been so many tears in that shit. Sam was fresh out for a year; he couldn’t be going around, breaking up with people and getting broken up with. He’d have the wrong reaction or he wouldn’t cry enough and people would get even madder than they already were.

It wasn’t worth the trouble.

“It’s okay for you to date guys, you know,” Leilani said.

“It’s not that,” Sam sighed, dropping his cards along with the pretenses.

“Then what is it?” Leilani asked. “Note that if you say that you’re not good enough, I’m morally obligated to throw this table.”

Hahahaha. Ha.

His right hand found the left’s wrist and twisted.

“Peter’s one of the best people I know,” he said.

“ _Peter_ , that’s right,” Leilani drawled. “What a boring name for Spiderman.”

“He’s not boring,” Sam defended. “And he likes his name.”

“Mm-hm.”

Man, why was this so hard to explain?

“Peter’s Matt’s little brother,” he said. “Well—kind of. Sort of. They’re teammates first, obviously, and they agitate the shit out of each other, but like, they’re ride or die for each other, too. So. Yeah.”

“So?” Leilani repeated.

So.

“So Peter’s off limits,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “I wanted to _be_ Peter. I wanted to be important to Matt. And I am. We—I’d—we’re that tight, too…now. But because we’re tight now, I can’t—I can’t cross Matt, does that make sense?”

“You don’t want to fuck up what you’ve got by fucking around with what you’ve got’s baby brother,” Leilani translated.

Pretty much.

“Bummer.”

Pretty, pretty much.

“Would you, though? In a perfect world?”

“I would hold that boy down and make him _blush_ ,” Sam said seriously.

Leilani choked.

“Naughty,” she scolded.

“Never claimed to be a saint,” Sam sniffed.

“Make him _blush_ ,” Leilani whispered the next day into Sam’s ear to make him choke on his coffee and ruin his shirt.

Achara carried on bemoaning the diarrhea that her smoothies brought upon her. She said that she didn’t have time to be on the toilet; Spiderman needed an active wife.

“Stop it,” Sam hissed up at Leilani.

Leilani patted at her nose with big, fluttery eyes.

“I need to get a dress,” Achara huffed at the desk with her hands stuffed under her thighs.

“Ooooh. Shopping?” Leilani asked. “Want to go as a team? We can make Sam lay on all the waiting room benches and carry the bags.”

Achara was not impressed.

“Not him, just you,” she said.

Sam was offended.

“I shop with my sister all the time,” he said.

“Your sister’s like, punk,” Achara told him. “I’m different.”

“What, so you’re gonna roll up to the city in a skater skirt and white converse because _you’re different_?” Sam scoffed. “Man, _everyone_ in New York City is different. The only way to stand out is to stand up and shout.”

Achara and Leilani stared at him.

“I lied, you’re coming,” Achara said.

This sucked.

Leilani told Sam to at least try to look supportive, but his soul was leaving him because Forever 21 was full of fashion that was boring as hell.

Oh, what cute and innocent pastel polo shirts and sports jackets. Oh, what scandalous fishnet undershirts. Oh what shiny, puffy tulle sleeves you have, my dear.

UGH.

“Sam,” Leilani said. “Be helpful, not huffy.”

“Just tell her to buy a floor length fur coat and pearls and let’s be done with it,” he said.

He got nothing.

“No? Come on, pearls? On the subway? I’d look,” he said. “Hell I’d light her cigarette.”

“Smoking is gross,” Leilani said.

Uuuuuuugh.

Okay, fine.

“You know what we’re gonna do?” Sam said. “We’re going to go full Jessica Jones.”

“This is not my style,” Achara said.

“My style,” Sam told her with a big smile.

“You’re a punk?”

“Listen,” Sam said. “To make it in NYC, you need to look a little like you fell out of bed with a hangover and woke up stunning anyways, okay?”

Achara didn’t get it.

“Floral with a leather jacket,” she negotiated.

“Floral with fishnets and a leather jacket,” Sam negotiated right back. “Unless it’s too hot, in which case, floral with fishnets and pointy, shiny shoes.”

“Why fishnets?”

Why _not_?

Leilani sighed really loudly next to them.

Sam didn’t know why he bothered. He was out here, recreating outfits Hannah had worn while he stood right next to her on the train platform and here Achara was, trying to find the daintiest necklace possible—no, daintier.

“She’s trying very hard to fit a definition of femininity with universal appeal,” Leilani said while they hid behind a rack of scarves that no one was buying or planned on buying until October.

“I recognize that,” Sam said, “And I’m trying to help her understand that NYC is not about universal appeal. New Yorkers only care what New Yorkers think about their fashion.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t about New York, it’s about one guy, Samuel.”

…okay, fair.

“But here's the thing: Peter’s girlfriend is two inches taller than him and texts him to remind her to put mascara on the other eye for conferences,” he explained painstakingly. “Peter’s boyfriend is a tech bro who works for the government and alternates between wearing grey ties and button ups and huge blue henleys.”

Leilani’s face was wide in every possible way.

“He’s got a girlfriend and a boyfriend?” she hissed.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Which is reason five thousand and six why I don’t have a chance and why she doesn’t have one either.”

He pointed at Achara exchanging her third dainty necklace for a fourth.

“Spidey, you amaze me at every turn,” Leilani murmured.

Focus, friend.

“Okay, so his type is what?” Leilani asked.

“His type is smarter than him and does not take shit,” Sam said. “Also known as reason five thousand and seven why I don’t have a chance and—”

“ _Sam_.”

Fine, possibly too dramatic. Message received.

Leilani pressed fingers to her lip and tapped her foot urgently. Her eyes lit up.

“You know the other Spideys, right?” she asked.

Wh—like the copycats?

“Yeah, them. Two of them are on twitter. Ask them to ask Spidey what he likes in a gal,” Leilani said. “Make it specifically about fashion.”

Sam stared.

“That won’t work. If he answers a tweet, every vigilante hound in the city will try to dress to appeal to him,” he whispered.

“Have them dm you the response,” Leilani said.

“And out myself? To Achara? Leilani, I need you to know right now that you are a special case which I do not intend to repeat.”

“Just say that you know a guy who knows a guy in New York. We’re stupid Californians. We think everyone in New England knows each other, those states are like the size of teeth.”

Wow. 

“I’m not doing this for her, though, I’m doing it for you,” Sam told her.

There was no way in fuck Sam was bringing the folks in the group chat in on this. He had a reputation to maintain; he also, however, had a brilliant sister who laughed her ass off and was willing to knock up some fake screenshots.

Thank god for siblings.

The shots were duly handed off to Achara who froze dead at Hannah’s description of Peter’s type as ‘kinda windswept. Super funny and down to earth.’

“What does ‘down to earth’ mean?” she asked.

“It means like, you’re not putting on a show,” Leilani said. “Very casual and chill.”

Achara clutched at her phone.

“What, I’m just supposed to roll up in a hoodie and tights?” she asked.

Given that Sam had only seen Peter’s girlfriend in their boyfriend’s shirts and tights until Matt’s wedding, when she’d shown up in a dress that was like a tangerine’s kiss, yeah. Yeah, pretty much.

“He won’t even notice me, though,” Achara said in a tone that was kind of quiet and kind of disappointed and kind of made Sam feel like a jerk.

“It’s about your personality, hon,” Leilani said. “Life isn’t about how you look. Love is about chemistry and how your experiences mesh with someone else’s.”

Achara lifted her face.

“I don’t have life experience,” she said. “I’m just a secretary going to school to do boring-ass law, and I don’t even have any guarantee to get even that far. He’s amazing. How am I supposed to just walk up as me and stand next to all that and make him care?”

Leilani sucked in a breath and closed her eyes.

“You can’t,” she said.

Sam wanted to scream.

This was.

A lot.

“I need a drink,” he announced. “I’ll be right back.”

**BT:** Spidey my coworker is in undying love with you and thinks that she won’t amount to anything if she doesn’t become your wife.

 **SM:** Um?

 **S2:** wow

 **S3:** people exist. I totally forgot people exist.

 **BT:** idk what to do. Advice?

 **S2:** give her Spidey’s hand in marriage

 **S3:** yes

 **SM:** I already gave it to Ned last night??

 **S2:** give her the other hand

 **SM:** I mean he told me to fuck off so I actually do have two available

 **S2:** Problem solved

 **BT:** I wish this was a joke?

 **S2:** wait you’re serious serious

 **BT:** yes

 **S3:** yikes

 **SM:** questions: monsterfucker or vigilante hound?

 **BT:** second one

 **SM:** malevolent?

 **BT:** not intentionally so

 **BT:** very awkward has spent the last hour trying to pick out an outfit to impress you

 **S2:** banana suit

 **S3:** I was gonna say mustard but that’s good too

 **BT:** she’s coming to the city in like, ten days?

 **SM:** name?

 **BT:** Achara

 **SM:** okay np

 **S2:** ??

 **S3:** ?

 **BT:** np?

 **SM:** yeah just let me know where she is and I’ll swing by. No sense in leaving her to feel sorry for herself. She should have a good time while she’s here. We’ll get the disillusionment out of the way so she can have fun.

 **DD:** What is happening now?

 **BT:** DD avert your eyes your employee wants to bang Spidey so bad

 **DD:** the child?

 **BT:** yes

 **DD:** what if I showed up to work and laid on her desk in the horns? That should dissuade her, no?

 **S2:** BAHAHAHA

 **BT:** do you like having an admin assistant?

 **DD:** hm yes

 **DD:** nevermind peter do your thing

 **DD:** but make it weird please. This one asks too many questions and does not think I am funny.

 **S2:** that’s ‘cause you’re not

 **DD:** she reminds me of you but quieter and incrementally more polite

 **SM:** 👍 on it

Sam took in a deep breath.

This. This was why he would never be able to let go of Peter Parker.

He just did shit like this without batting an eye and he wasn’t self-conscious about it and he didn’t make it a fuss. He just—

Hng.

Unfair.

The world was unfair.

Whatever. Sam had solved the problem; he got world peace points for the day.

“No fucking way,” Leilani whispered on the way out of the mall.

“Way,” Sam whispered back.

“He’s so sweet, Sam. Fuck, he’s so sweet. He’s the man of our dreams.”

Yeah, let’s not rub it in, shall we?

Sam was used to keeping secrets, so he kept this new one stacked on top of his others. He kept them in a shoebox in his head. One for non-slip boots--the ones tucked in his closet back in New York next to his battered navy converse.

He could picture them.

He could picture the shoebox on the shelf above the winter coats that he’d left behind. He could imagine himself reaching up and taking it off that shelf and kneeling down, lifting the lid, and setting his phone in there on top of one of Mom’s scarves and his birth certificate and Blindspot’s mask.

He closed the box and set a timer for ten days and then he waited as the seconds ticked down.

He went out with Zebaniah and Jun on the Thursday after the next and argued over salted egg yolk and how much cheese should be in cheesecake for about twenty minutes when his phone chirped and he pulled it out to see what was up.

It was in the work chat he had with Leilani and Achara and it was a picture.

Achara stood beaming next to Spiderman. Peter’s eyes were white and empty, but Sam could just tell somehow that he was smiling under his mask at the camera. Achara’s eyes looked a little ruddy.

“He says he’s taken,” her accompanying caption said. “Oh well. Onto Hawkeye and then Daredevil, I guess.”

Sam couldn’t help but snort.

He showed the other gals the picture and they reacted with appropriate flailing and jealousy. Then he took the phone back.

**SC:** good on you for finding him

 **AT:** it was weird, it was like he found me

 **LW:** Oh MY GOD

 **AT:** he said he’s got a girlfriend and he’s got a thing for people who can beat his ass

 **AT:** That’s not my thing tho so I don’t think we would work out

 **SC:** lol probably not

 **LW:** give him to me then I’ll beat him

 **AT:** ew

 **LW:** **🥰**

 **AT:** hey sam

 **SC:** ?

 **AT:** you’re a lying bastard

 **SC:** !!

 **LW:** wow!

 **SC:** What did I do to you???

 **AT:** he said to say hi.

PETER.

NO.

**AT:** you said you didn’t know any vigilantes

 **SC:** ??? I DON’T?? Jesus, do I???

 **AT:** you know him

 **LW:** omg

 **SC:** I swear to you I don’t. I’m thinking through all my friends right now none of them are even remotely spidey material

 **AT:** well either one of them is lying to you or you’re lying to me

 **SC:** !?

 **SC:** I’m not lying to you. I guess? Maybe? I know Spiderman?

 **AT:** uh huh

 **LW:** the plot thickens!!

 **AT:** you’re lying to me aren’t you Sam?

 **SC:** I’m not!!

 **AT:** then why

 **AT:** did he say

 **AT:** that you’re cute?

 **LW:** OH MY GOD

 **SC:** HE SAID WHAT

 **AT:** that you are cute. Specifically he said, ‘tell Sam I say hi. He’s kind of cute, isn’t he?’

 **SC:** Everyone move the fuck out of the way I’m getting married

 **LW:** wowowowowowow

 **AT:** Sam

 **SC:** yes, you may be the flowergirl

 **AT:** how do you know spiderman

 **SC:** I don’t, I just told you

 **AT:** dude, I’m not an idiot. He just so ‘’’’happened’’’’ to find me? He found ME. You’re the only person I know from new York.

 **LW:** that’s not true. Everyone in our office is from New York but me and you, Achara

 **SC:** ^^^

 **SC:** Matt and Foggy were his lawyers. they must have put in a good word for all of us. Except Leilani

 **LW:** WOW

 **AT:** no

 **SC:** OwO?

 **AT:** it’s you

**SC: OwO????**

**AT:** you’re the only one who I told where I was when I came up in the city.

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Oh damn.

She wasn’t supposed to be this smart.

Fuck fuck fuck

**SC:** I literally don’t know what to tell you friend. I definitely don’t know Spiderman. I dmed his friend to ask his preferences. That’s it. the fact that they responded was a miracle.

 **AT:** you’re sure talking a lot for someone who usually says ‘lol.’

FUCK.

**SC:** ??? You’re accusing me of lying??

 **AT:** who are you

 **SC:** I am Sam. Sam I am.

 **AT:** it’s not funny Sam. Who are you

 **SC:** I’m sam chung, brother of Hannah chung, greatest paralegal on this side of the pacific

 **AT:** why did you come all the way to California?

 **SC:** what is this, an interrogation? No thank you ❤ I’m outtie until I have a lawyer present. Byeeee

Christ. Close call.

Peter, what are you _doing_ man? Going out of the way to—

To—

Did he think really Sam was cute?

Did he mean that? Or was it a joke?

It was a joke. Teasing him for freaking out about this 20 year old coworker with her dreams on the line. Peter thought it was cute to see someone else doing all this work to make someone happy.

That was what was cute. That was all.

Sam sighed and locked his phone. Jun asked him what was wrong and he pasted on a pout and said that his coworker was throwing around cruel accusations and then hopped back into a conversation about pigeon spikes in transit stations.

He came back home and found Tuesday sleeping on the floor in his room and flopped down onto the bed to stroke her fur.

“Life’s unbearably long and complicated,” he informed her.

She rolled over slightly so that he could pet her belly.

“Oh, to be a dog,” he hummed. Then sighed and dropped his face into the pillow.

It was cruel, Peter Parker, to tease.

It was cruel to be so brutal and funny and smart and to be polyamorous with two brilliant partners and all snuggled up with Johnny Storm in the pictures online and to be in…New York.

In Sam’s home, too.

Where there was nowhere else he would rather be. Where the waves of noise would always be comforting. Where the air would be thick enough to swim in at this time of the year.

It was cruel to tease, Mr. Parker, with your pretty white-boy lips and eyes and your accent that gets heavier when Matt speaks, as though you need to represent Queens in the face of Hell’s Kitchen.

Sam’s accent got stronger when he was in Chinatown, too. When he talked to Hannah and stood on the roofs, gazing down at the city through the hot, heavy air.

It was cruel to tease.

“I wish I were a dog, Tues,” he sighed.

Tuesday took a moment, then sighed with him.


End file.
